


Hershel's New Best Friend

by macybon23



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: But I don't feel like going back and changing it, But in other news shelter dogs are incredible so go adopt from there, Gen, Headcanon, Hershel needs a hug, So please don't fight me, Yes I know it's a pet store
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:00:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24111709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macybon23/pseuds/macybon23
Summary: Hershel Layton has been struggling since Luke left, and a colleague offers a simple solution.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	Hershel's New Best Friend

**Author's Note:**

> So I had this hc for a bit before I wrote this incomplete drabble. I really want to expand it so we'll see if that happens.

Hershel frowned once more at the handwritten note in his hand. It read, “Get a dog, it will help to have companionship.” It was a letter from a colleague of his in the wake of his protege Luke leaving for America. The advice seemed like nonsense. How could a pet possibly help with the emotions he was feeling? Surely the solution was not more stress in his life. A dog required feeding, grooming, walking, playing. Essentially a child. He doubted the effectiveness of such an addition to his life. And he almost walked away from that storefront... but his eyes met the chocolate eyes of a speckled puppy in the window. It had floppy brown ears, a white muzzle, and looked like brown paint had been splashed over a white canvas. And the nose looked like it had gotten into some trouble digging in the flower garden. With a sigh, he entered the establishment.

An overly cheery woman in a blue smock met him at the jingling door. “Hello there! Are you looking to adopt a dog today?” Every fiber of his rational being wanted to say no, but the emotional part of him attached to that pup in the window overpowered it.

“Yes, I noticed the brown and white one over there,” he said in a low voice, pointing toward the front window. Sure enough, those chocolate eyes were watching his every movement, white tail thumping as he looked at it.

The woman clasped her hands together. “Oh, goodness! It’s about time for that little girl to have some interest. Her siblings were all adopted earlier this month.” She led him over to the enclosure, and the pup began to prance around. “I’d like to introduce you to Millicent.” She laughed. “But we just call her Millie. It seemed too proper for her.” The pup paced back and forth as the humans looked down upon her. The woman reached down and took the excited pup into her arms. Millie covered her face in kisses despite her giggling protests. “Pf yuck stop that! Ugh you sap of a dog. Get one visitor and- ew quit that!”

Hershel couldn’t hold back the smile that stretched across his face. The clerk reached over and put the wiggly pup in his arms, and he held it awkwardly. The silly dog just kept staring back at him with those dark eyes, tongue lolling out to the side.

“Isn’t she perfect? I think you two are going to get along really well. Give her a few days to settle in and she’ll be at home soon enough.” The woman led him over to the counter to fill out some paperwork, and before he knew it, he was walking out the door with a pup on a leash.

Millie couldn’t seem to decide where to investigate first, sniffing anything and everything and taking in all of the sights and sounds of London. Her ears flopped back and forth, and her white tail wagged incessantly as she saw the world for the first time. To Hershel, she looked like a child in a toystore. Or Luke in a museum. He let out a sad sigh, remembering the enthusiasm of his young apprentice on all of the adventures they had had together.

A slimy feeling on his hand jolted him from his thoughts. A wet nose nudged his hand and licked his fingers again, and he withdrew his hand quickly. The pup tilted her head and looked back at him with a quizzical expression, as if asking, “What’s the matter?”

“You wouldn’t understand, little one,” he replied to her unvoiced question. In response, she whined and butted her head against his hand. He scratched behind her fluffy ears. “Come on, let’s get you home.” She wagged her tail and pranced about, tugging on the leash. Could it be that she understood more than he was giving her credit for? He chided himself for almost believing something so nonsensical. Though she had a human name, she was certainly a dog, and dogs didn’t understand human language. Everyone knew that.


End file.
